


Catching Feelings

by tenlittlecock_bites



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: M/M, Pining, Sudden realization of /feelings/, Thanksgiving, Waxing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5254292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenlittlecock_bites/pseuds/tenlittlecock_bites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What's a better way to spend Thanksgiving than to be alone in the cold with a case of beer and a half empty bag of stale potato chips?"</p>
<p>Michael's mom did always tell him if he went out into the snow for too long he'd catch a cold. She never told him that he also ran the risk of catching feelings while he was at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catching Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> So this may just end up being a stand alone thing, or I'll actually end up writing more for it. My motivation really is a fickle bitch sometimes.
> 
> The title is from a t-shirt on the graphic of one of Kelly's (@ horrificsmut.tumblr.com) playlists while I was looking for title ideas.
> 
> Comments are much appreciated(:

What's a better way to spend Thanksgiving than to be alone in the cold with a case of beer and a half empty bag of stale potato chips? A lot of fucking things, actually. But, after storming out of his rich aunt's house, Michael didn't have many other options other than paying a ton of money that he didn't have to switch his flight over and just go _home_. He wondered vaguely what Geoff was doing now, having made a _smart_ decision and _not_ gone home to Alabama and instead stayed in their tiny one bedroom apartment to spend the holiday at least slightly sane and probably very drunk.

As he shivered in the cold, he remembered how when he was a kid he and his cousins would always want to go out to play in the snow in the huge back yard of his aunt's estate. They'd all be so excited to go that they'd almost forget their jackets, Michael's mom and aunt alike telling them to put them on or else they were going to catch a cold. That memory seemed so distant and so different than how just ten minutes previously he had stood up from the table and stormed out without a word spoken by him or anyone else to keep him inside.

Michael felt a sudden ache of homesickness, which surprised him. Up until about four months previous his homesickness had been for Jersey and his family there, but after moving in with Geoff it felt easier and easier to forget about New Jersey and actually enjoy the benefits that Washington had to offer. The year before he would have been stoked to be back east, but now he found himself longing to sit on a barstool behind the counter while Geoff made dinner.

Watching Geoff cook was one of Michael's favorite past times. It was just so calming to watch the older man move around the kitchen with such practiced confidence, tattooed hands chopping, seasoning...

God, Geoff's hands, too. Michael always ended up staring at them, just admiring the way they looked wrapped around a glass of whiskey or clutching onto a controller with white knuckles as they struggled through a video game or flipping through the pages of a book. Michael found himself wondering there, sitting alone on the front porch in the snow, what Geoff's hands would feel like pressing his hips into a bed as his mouth--

_Wait, what?_

Michael broke off that train of thought with a literal jerk of his body, his gloved fingers tightening around the neck of his beer bottle as he stared off into the darkness. Was he really just thinking about his roommate _blowing him_? No, that couldn't be it. He had just had too much to drink. Hell, that could have been anyone. Lord knows he hadn't been laid in way too long. He probably just had a thing for tattooed hands and stubble and high, hysterical hiccupy laughs that were so contagious no matter how pissed off or hurting you were you couldn't help but laugh along with.

Fuck.

"I just had to fucking figure this out now." Michael grumbled to himself, tossing the empty bottle into the yard and rubbing his face, a habit he most definitely picked up from Geoff, shit. Of course he realized he was fucking in love with his roommate after he was all the way across the damn country trapped at a house with homophobic asshole relatives.

He got to his feet and pulled his phone out of his pocket as he pushed the door open to go inside, tugging one glove off with his teeth before tapping out a quick text message as he ignored the laughter and hum of conversation from the dining room and mounted the stairs.

>>Family is fucking insane. Switching my flight over.

The reply came by the time he reached the guest bedroom he was staying in.

>>Geoff: need a pick up from the airport?

>>You sober enough to drive?

>>Geoff: can be by then

Michael mulled it over as he shoved the few things he'd unpacked back into his duffel. Did he really want to see Geoff so _soon_ after this... revelation? Did he want to say no and risk showing up when Geoff was drunk and (more likely than not) handsy? Michael hadn't realized he had been standing in one spot mulling over his options with a pair of boxers in his hand until his phone chimed from where it sat on the bed.

>>Geoff: kind of need to know soon, buddy

>>Geoff: I've got a lot of whiskey to flush out of my system

Michael felt a warmth spread through him at the pet name despite the fact that Geoff used it pretty frequently with just about everyone. Goddamn, he was fucked.

After chewing on his lip and deliberating for another moment, he replied.

>>I'll just get an Uber. Drink away, just have dinner on the table when I get home lol

>>Geoff: yes dear

Michael locked his phone and shoved it back into his pocket and finished packing, calling the airline company on the way out the door, not even bothering to say goodbye. He'll send his mom a text and apologize later, but there was no way in hell he was going back in that fucking dining room.

As he drove his rental car down the highway to the airport, he tried his damned hardest not to think about Geoff. He had to focus on getting onto the goddamn plane, then he could mull over whatever the _fuck_ he was going to do when he got back.

\- - -

"You can't get me out on a flight until _midnight_?"

"We only have one other flight today and it's all booked up. We can let you know if there's an opening once they start boarding."

"Ok yeah, sure, whatever." Michael grumbled, handing the woman behind the counter his card and signing the paperwork she passed over to him. Once his bags were checked and he was through security, he headed straight for the bar nearest his gate. If he was going to wait until midnight to leave, he was at least going to get a good buzz going to pass the time.

Jesus Christ, Geoff really _was_ rubbing off on him.

>>can't get a fucking flight until 12

>>Geoff: gives me more time to hunt down a turkey then. Think I can just steal one from the neighbors?

>>whatever works, man

The short string of text messages with Geoff made Michael smile. However, the rest of the evening was filled with bitter misfortune. Michael's drinks at the bar were made wrong every time, he was called to the gate to board the earlier flight only to find out they didn't get a chance to scan some old asshole's boarding pass and it was a fluke, some kid ran over his toe with a baby stroller, he couldn't find a damn open outlet anywhere except in the corner by the disgusting restrooms.... the list went on. By the time he _finally_ boarded his flight and was seated, he wanted nothing more than to go to fucking _sleep _yet the crying baby two rows back made that damn near impossible.__

__By four a.m. the flight was landing, Michael blinking away sleep as he shuffled zombie-like to baggage claim and hoisted his bag over his shoulder from the carousel. Once outside, before he could even think about pulling his phone out to call for an Uber, an all too familiar piece of shit black Toyota pulled up at the curb in front of him, a tattooed arm reaching over to push open the passenger side door, some weird indie punk band blaring from the speakers inside._ _

__"Toss your shit in the trunk and get in!" Geoff shouted from the driver's side of the vehicle, earning himself quite a few dirty looks from suburban families waiting for their own rides, bundled up against the cold._ _

__Michael grinned so hard his face hurt, wrenching open the trunk to drop his bag in before collapsing into the passenger seat, closing the door and holding his hands over the vents blasting heat over his entire body._ _

__"You have _no_ idea how glad I am to see you."_ _


End file.
